


You're so cold, keep your hand in mine

by muusan



Series: Love and War [1]
Category: Gears of War (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Hand Jobs, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27738526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muusan/pseuds/muusan
Summary: She dreams of blood.
Relationships: Kait Diaz/James "JD" Fenix
Series: Love and War [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138379
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	You're so cold, keep your hand in mine

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the events of Gears 4.  
> The title is from "So Cold" by Breaking Benjamin.

She dreams of blood. It’s deep red and sickeningly warm and it envelops her like an ocean. Dreams of floating on the surface of it, being whirled away towards something unknown, dark, and ambiguously dangerous. In the dream, she lets it happen, lets the flow take her and the darkness swallows her whole. 

In reality, which takes Kait a few confused seconds to resurface to, her face is pressed into a solid warm shoulder, there is an arm under her knees and another one across her back and she is being carried somewhere. The air is still and quiet around them, there are no sounds but his steps and their breathing, and she should open her eyes to see who it is and where they are going, but she doesn’t. It is too much work to move or care. 

This week — _or two, has it been two already, it’s so hard to keep track_ — has been really long. And it was by far the worst time of her life. 

The corridor makes a turn, and then the person carrying her leans on a door with his back until it opens, scraping the dirty metal floor and letting the cold processed air out and over the two of them. He steps inside and deposits her carefully on the bed over the covers, leaving her legs hanging over the side. Kait opens her eyes just in time to catch a blond head in the corner of her vision. 

“I’m just gonna take off your boots. Go back to sleep,” JD says in a raspy voice, and then she distantly feels his hands on her calf, rolling the zipper down, freeing her feet. 

It’s warm outside, she remembers now how she was sweating just a few hours ago under the unrelenting sun. It should be warm enough here too, but even laying fully dressed Kait is cold. The covers on the bed, the metal of the floor, the air touching her skin — she shivers and puts her arms tightly around herself, looking at the faint fluorescent lights on the ceiling. 

JD leaves the boots under the bed and straightens, wipes his palms on his pants. Kait watches him move in silence and thinks that being a COG soldier suits JD more than being an outsider. He seems to even stand straighter with the COG insignia on him, and even if the past six months added to the dark circles around his eyes and to the wrinkles in the corners of his mouth, he looks better now that they are under the wing — more confident, less desperate.

“You are not going to fall asleep again, are you?” He squints at her after a few moments of watching her silently. Kait doesn’t reply, just lets her head fall back against the pillow. 

She should sleep, but she knows the drill already. Instead, she will lay on her bunk for hours, too tired to even toss, but with eyes wide open and her mind disgustingly sharp, and when she finally falls under for no more than twenty minutes at a time, into a shallow and fevered surreal state, she will dream of pain and loss and death.

The cold emptiness inside her ripples and wraps itself tightly around her heart. 

He should probably go, return to whatever he was doing, he is a busy man, always needed somewhere for something. She wraps her hands tighter around herself, but can’t suppress a shiver at the thought of him leaving and her staying in this cold room alone. 

JD sighs, and then there is a resolute sound of the heavy door being shut, then the sound of shoelaces scraping the metal floor, and then the narrow cot dips under the additional weight. And then there are arms around her, solid, warm and gentle arms, that chase the shiver away. Kait allows herself to be drawn closer, to hide her face in the soft fabric of his shirt, because for a second there it felt like her head was heavy enough to break her neck.

All this is not entirely new. Sometimes they do this now, usually sitting on the outside walls, when JD is on duty and Kait can’t manage to switch off her mind, so she keeps him company. Sometimes he puts his arm around her and lets her lay her head on his shoulder and feel slightly less fucked up. It falls perfectly in line with Marcus and Baird and Cole and everyone else they know accepting her here and treating her like a long lost daughter, so she doesn’t question it too much. 

As usual, JD doesn’t say anything, but he is warm and his heart beats reassuringly steady under her cheek and slowly the cold slithers away. 

“I fixed your lancer,” he whispers into her hair after a few minutes of silence. Kait smiles to herself at that — the man doesn’t always bother to find matching socks, but can’t stand a chain dragging a second longer than he has to. She was planning to fix it herself if she didn’t fall asleep at the workbench — the weight of the original owner’s name is still somewhat heavy on her shoulders, even though they all insist the armor and weapon are rightfully hers now. 

Kait has heard of Anya Stroud, even seen a photo of her. She was standing behind a lectern with her blond hair shining and her belly unapologetically round in her royally blue dress against the backdrop with cogs and clouds. JD never talked about her. 

And now, well, now Kait sort of gets that. 

“Thank you,” she replies simply and feels him nod in acknowledgment against the top of her head. “By the way, I flew out with Sam the other day. We talked a little. She is...interesting.” 

JD snorts.

“She has no mercy,” his voice is fond. “I don’t know how Baird managed to stay alive for so long”.

For Kait the answer is clear — Baird is every bit a selfish and condescending asshole JD described many times, but not with Sam. No, she is his warrior princess, and he is her foul-mouthed and overly smart knight in shining armor, and they both know it, even if he’ll never say it out loud and she’ll refuse to accept it even on her deathbed. They are two pieces of the same puzzle. 

The fabric of JD’s shirt is soft against her skin and Kait doesn’t find it in herself to resist the urge to nuzzle further into it. 

“So the sleeping pills don’t work, I’m guessing?” he says quietly. His fingers are slowly rubbing soothing circles into her shoulders. The sleeping pills, given to her by a medic with a disinterested face, do work. Kait remembers vividly how she sat in bed drenched in a cold sweat and on the verge of screaming the only time she took them because red blood kept flooding her lungs and she couldn’t even wake up. It’s easier to say they did not affect her than to explain the dreams. And insomnia is shitty, but it’s not the worst. 

She fists the fabric of his shirt, where her hands are pressed into his clothed chest. No, the worst is not the lack of sleep and not the nightmares, not the pity she reads in the eyes of everyone, not the sadness that accompanies her like a dark cloud. The worst is the strange new loneliness, that she feels even surrounded by people. The hollowness inside of her that won’t ever be filled. 

The worst is how lost she is — like a torn branch of a tree, tumbling in the water with no direction or purpose. Drifting helplessly on the red waves to the inevitable end. 

“Hey, JD,” Kait mutters into his chest. 

“Yeah?” He prompts softly.

“Does it get better?” She doesn’t want to sound so dramatic, but there is no helping it — her voice wavers and cracks and turns into a bitter whisper. 

He doesn’t answer right away, instead, he tugs her carefully away and looks at her, and even though his brows are drawn together, his eyes are dark and gentle. This _is_ new, this tentative touch and compassionate look, this tenderness she gets from him because the JD she knows is bold and confrontational, rough around the edges, and too demanding of others and himself. Always sassy and never soft. 

“Of course, it does,” he says urgently in a rugged voice, barely above a whisper, and his arms around her tighten a fraction.

The life of an outsider is never dull, even without the extra intensity JD brought into it 6 months ago. Kait has been through a lot, and living as one big outsider family she is used to not letting things go to her head. There will always be a time when the success of the mission comes before anything else and there won’t be any room for being touchy with personal things. But now in this semi-darkness, with only the sound of their breathing, surrounded by dust and sadness, Kait is suddenly and acutely aware of how little space there is between them. His face is so close she could make out the tiny white lines of scars over the bridge of his nose, on his forehead above the left eyebrow. She can see each of his curled eyelashes, each crack on his lips, each fleck of darker blue on his retina. One of his hands still holds her around the waist, pins her to the bed with its heavy warmth, that she can feel even through the clothes. In fact, all of JD’s body radiates heat like a furnace, and Kait shivers involuntarily in what’s left of her cold private space. 

JD smells of the COG showers — of toothpaste, hard soap, and shaving cream, of something minty and masculine. In the charged silence he steals a glance at her mouth and that’s the last straw. 

Kait closes her eyes and holds her breath, like she is about to jump into cold water, and kisses his surprisingly soft lips. There are a few torturous moments when he remains still, but then his mouth comes alive under hers and welcomes her with passion, with a vengeance, with his tongue sliding inside her mouth and him pulling her towards his body with both hands, until they are a single straight line from lips to toes, until he is everywhere around her, until she can’t breathe. And Kait is alright with that she would be alright never breathing again, because it’s devastatingly, overwhelmingly good. She never thought anything will ever feel that good again, and now it does. _It does._

She runs her fingers through his hair, digs into his broad shoulders, and pushes him on his back, slides her own body on top, smoothly and purposefully, riding the wave of euphoria as if she has already done it a million times. She can feel his hands on her hips and higher, on her waist, where the top has ridden up, hot palms touching her skin, tracing the outline of her spine. Kait leans into it with everything she’s got, chases the burning points of their connection with single-minded urgency. Right now, this is all she wants, all she knows with everything inside her set ablaze — the villagers, Oscar, her mother, the COG and Marcus Fenix, her own shame, and fear, and guilt — fuck it, _fuck them all_. _Let it burn._

“Wait…” JD whispers, suddenly catching her face with both hands, and makes her stop and look at him. “Wait a second”. 

Kait doesn’t want to wait, she chases his warm mouth like a lifeline it is, but JD holds her firmly away, even when she claws his shoulders through the shirt. They stare at each other, chests rising and falling rapidly, still just a hair out of reach, until Kait blinks and sits back on his thighs. Her heart is hammering in her throat as she watches JD sit up with his back against the headboard.

They sit silently, trying to catch their breath. She can’t make herself look at him, so she pretends there is something catching her eye on the plain white covers. So what now? Does he… What if that’s not what he wants from her? What if she got it all wrong, and just like that ruined everything between them? The possibility of rejection tastes bitter on her tongue and the cold threatens to wrap around her again. 

“Well, that was… new.”

“New,” Kait repeats, unsure of what to say. She nervously fiddles with the leather patch on her pants, when suddenly his big and warm hand envelops hers.

JD’s face is draped in shadow, his eyes wide and bright, mouth soft — his whole expression open, sincere, vulnerable. His usual high spirited attitude is washed out, dulled down as if a sudden movement or a sharp glance would break her. 

“Kait,” he rubs his other hand across his face and the jerky gesture makes him look oddly young. “You’ve been through some serious shit. I can imagine how you feel and I just...” Kait takes in his disheveled hair, the stubbornly — _signature Fenix_ — set jaw. “I just don’t want you to make a rash decision and regret it later,” he finishes quietly. 

JD’s body under hers is thrumming with energy, but he keeps his face impassive and open. He wants her to be sure. But how can she _not_ be sure, when there is a hot flooding feeling in her veins that she can dissolve in? When he looks at her with those hungry eyes of his? When he is the only thing that makes her warm while all the other world is sinking into the cold?

“This is what I want,” she whispers and looks into his face. “Do you?”

He licks his lips and closes his eyes, but doesn’t answer. Kait can feel his hesitation, his misplaced and endearing desire to be _proper_ about this, so she carefully puts both of her palms flat on the sheet and leans forward.

“Do you want this, JD?” She asks again, her breath breaking against his lips, and when he opens his eyes and looks back at her she has her answer. 

“God, Kait,” JD says in a rough whisper that she immediately wants more of. “What do you think?”

And then they kiss again, hot, insistent, resolute, with his demanding hands pressing on her nape and the small of her back, twisting into her hair, with his teeth nipping at her jawline and pulse point, and she wants to laugh out loud at her thoughts and feelings stumbling over each other in their rush to the surface. She wants to… to sink, to drown, to let go. To let his lips and hands warm her up and fill the void inside of her.

She presses on his chest, urging him to lay back against the metal bars of the headboard, and he allows her to guide him, relaxes, and throws his head back to watch her with his dark hooded eyes. His hands are soothingly rubbing her thighs. Kait swallows. They are not doing anything, they are barely even touching, this shouldn’t feel so charged, so dislodging something monumental inside of her. Each cell in her body is burning with curiosity, need and anticipation, and she doesn’t know what she wants more — to succumb or to resist. 

Kait reaches and slides her fingers along his neck, touches the hot skin where his pulse is beating steady and fast, rubs along the jutting collarbone, that peaks enticingly from the open neck of his shirt. She runs her hands against his clothed chest, feels the planes and angles of his body, soaking up the warmth that comes with it. JD stays still and quiet, just watching her curiously, but the wide chest under her hands rises and falls heavily. Kait drops her hands to the bottom of his shirt, pets the soft skin and hard muscles of his middle under it, and tugs the edge of fabric up.

JD gets the hint. And in the next second the shirt is dropped onto the floor and he lays back against the headrest in all of his half-naked glory. 

The view is… _rich_. He’s got broad defined shoulders and pecs, it shouldn’t be a surprise with the amount of stuff they have to climb and carry, but it still makes her cheeks tingle. It’s nice to see the sculpted physique of his waistline, the soft dusting of dark blond hair across his chest, and below the navel and the dark swirls of a tattoo on his left shoulder. Kait has spent half a year with him and Del, but this is the first time she sees it — wings and fire and clouds of smoke, that wrap around his arm. It suits him. She reaches to touch it lightly, following bulging veins and careful lines of ink. 

_What else does he hide under there?_

She wants to find out. She desperately wants to know all of him, feel all of him with no exceptions or restraint. Kait shivers, goosebumps breaking out on her exposed shoulders. 

“You alright?” JD asks quietly, his voice a raspy whisper because she has probably been silently staring at him for too long, and Kait nods, not trusting herself to speak. 

She shuffles a little closer, settles comfortably on his thighs, while her hands return to his collarbones, caressing the delicate arch of them. The muscles around them are solid, skin hot, and silky, and Kait presses harder, fits her whole palms against his pecs. JD still hasn't moved, he just watches her with a small satisfied smile that Kait kind of wants to wipe off his face, so she circles the tight nub of his nipple and that earns her a sigh, that travels through her like a little bolt of lightning. 

_Oh._

Encouraged she slots her fingers along his ribs and leans in to follow the same trail with her lips, pressing light chaste kisses to his sternum, tasting salt and a faint flavor of soap, and he gasps, the sound is deafening in the charged silence of the room, and his hands fly to her shoulders. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, catching her chin to kiss her again. 

It’s hot. She struggles out of her coat but doesn’t feel much cooler even left in her crop top, because JD is tracing his thumbs along her stomach, squeezes her backside, and drags her closer, and that feels breathtaking, and it would be easy, so easy to just yield, let him do whatever he wants, but she is… curious. It’s all so new and overwhelming, and good, that she wants to… 

“JD,” she whispers into the air between them. Her fingers are wrapped around his wrists, pushing his hands carefully, but firmly back to the mattress. It’s unexpected, he frowns and freezes, searches her face for clarification, but Kait is not sure she can explain it. She just wants it. 

_Please, let me do this._

“Please,” she whispers again, and she could swear his eyes get a tiny bit darker, just a fraction more intense, as she lets go of his hands and they stay laying on the sheets. He relaxes a little into the pillow behind him and lets his head tilt back, baring the tendons in his neck and the skin under his chin. 

“Anything for you,” he mutters as she leans to kiss his throat and chin and then his soft lips again. “I would do anything for you,” he breathes out against her mouth, soft like the darkness around them. More intimate than him feeling every curve of her body just a few seconds ago. More intimate than her hands sliding across his hot skin. Those words are terrifying and overwhelming and strangely, deeply arousing, they go down her spine like fire and settle in the pit of her stomach and she has to squeeze her knees tighter around his hips at the thought. 

He is hard. Kait can feel it clearly with almost no space between the two of them, and that feeling makes her buzz with heat. It’s one thing to hear that you are liked or wanted and another to read desire so clearly in another’s body, in the sharpened lines of it, in the twitching muscles, in the soft sighs. She is dizzy trying to process it, almost nauseous with excitement, it’s too new, _too much_. Too far away from all the other fumbling and half-childish experiences she had. 

The truth is Kait was always adored in their little community, she had plenty of friends both male and female and caught a few glances over time. She did a lot of kissing, some over the clothes action and there were occasional hints for more, but in the end, none of it led anywhere close to this. Kait always suspected her being the leader’s only daughter had something to do with it. 

JD fixes her with a fond, pleased stare from under his eyelashes. His hands are still laying on the sheets, but she discovers quickly that he doesn’t need to touch her — it’s enough that his eyes follow her every move, and the way he is watching her makes her blush and shiver, makes her want to press herself a little harder to his thigh and just move until she’s done, but also makes her want to touch him again. 

Kait sits back and lets her hands slide over the firm plane of his stomach, traces the juts and dips of hard muscle, caresses the trail of hair below his navel, and follows a jagged seam of an old scar. JD holds very still now, his fingers are digging into the sheets. He’s spotting a blush, high on his cheeks, and his eyes are a little glassy like he’s running a fever. Kait can see the frantic pulsing of the vein in his neck. She licks her lips and puts her hand on the heavy buckle of his belt, looking him in the eye for one last permission. 

For a second JD looks serious and conflicted, as if he only now realizes what they are doing, as if they haven’t crossed the threshold already with fingers and lips on each other’s bare skin, but it passes as quickly as it appeared. Kait’s fingers are trembling and a little clumsy, but in the end the buckle yields, the zipper slides down, and there he is, straining in his COG issued grey underwear. 

She falters at the sight and freezes for a second unsure of what to do next. JD sighs with relief but is holding his body as still as he can for her. And she… she has some idea, but she’s never really done this. _Come on_ , she thinks feverishly, _you’ve taken on a swarm. You’ve climbed the spinning wheel of the water power plant, and this is just sex, you can do this._

“Kait?” He startles her out of the daydream, and she hesitantly traces the outline of him with her index finger, and JD moans softly and closes his eyes. His hands unclench from the sheets and move to stretch along the headboard, clutching firmly the metallic bars it’s made of, and _fuck_ , it makes him look like a sacrifice on her altar like he is giving himself up for her desire and curiosity. 

The anticipation is too much to wait for one more second, so she digs under the elastic and shoves it down, just enough to be able to wrap her hand around him, and whatever thoughts she had just now disappeared without a trace. He is smooth and hot, skin velvety to the touch, the core rigid like steel, it’s electrifying and unlike anything Kait has ever felt before. The tip of it is flushed pink, a shade deeper than the pale skin around it, and a little damp. Kait swipes a drop of gathered liquid with her thumb and JD’s breath hitches, he jolts a little in her grasp, and she shivers, overloaded with sensation. 

She never really thought about this, the sex, the first time, and how it will happen, not beyond silly adolescent fantasies. They were always vague, generically romantic, with sweet kisses, cool sheets, and certainty that only comes from inexperience. There would be some faceless outsider, sweet and gentlemanly, who would one day just… make love to her. 

Either way even in her wildest dreams she could never have imagined this.

She slides her hand along the shaft slowly, experimentally, up until the foreskin almost covers the head and down to the root again and watches his eyes flutter shut and his mouth open, and his face is so fucking beautiful, so gloriously wrecked, that she has to do it again and again and again. Up and down, up and down, in sync with her quickening heartbeat, easily, like her hands were made for that — for making him groan those sweet aborted sounds and arch off the bed into her touch. 

“ _Jesus,_ Kait,” JD pants. “ _Please_.”

She almost moans at this. “What?” She whispers, barely enough to hear. “Please what?” 

He swallows and slowly lets go of the bars he’s been holding so tightly and pries her hand away from his cock and drags it towards his mouth. And then Kait does moan, it’s all she can do when her fingers are drawn one by one inside his hot mouth, and his tongue slides across her palm until it’s wet. 

Fuck, and so is she. 

“Harder,” he asks — _begs_ — in a strained voice, placing her hand back on himself and looking at her with dark eyes. “You won’t break me”.

And it’s her time to obey. She does it instantly — grips him tighter than she thought was comfortable — and he bucks so hard he almost throws both of them off the bed. 

So there he is, James Dominic Fenix. The golden child, the COG’s poster boy, with every perfect gene laid out blatantly on display — the square jaw, the broad shoulders, the trim waist. The pale pink skin, the soft hair, the cocky curve of his mouth, the bright baby-blue of his eyes. He is wild and smart, and strong, he can force a metal door off its hinges with his shoulder, he could probably lift her and hold her up like she weighs nothing — her lower belly feels hot and heavy at the thought. 

None of that would have mattered though if JD wasn’t who he is. If he didn’t stand between the villagers and Jinn’s armed deebees, if he wasn’t willing to dive into the pit of death to save his dad and her mom, if his strong arms didn’t wrap protectively around Kait outside the cave. 

James Dominic Fenix is undoubtedly one of the best people in this world. 

_And would you look at him now._

JD sighs, digs his fingers into the metal, grounding himself. Sweat makes his hair curl at the temples and he is flushed red now from cheekbones to the chest. Kait puts her left hand there, right in the center, and feels the heat of blood under the skin, the fast beating of his heart. Her right hand doesn’t miss a beat, up and down, up and down, nice and tight, just like he’s shown her, and it doesn’t take long until he is melting into the bunk.

“Look at me,” Kait whispers hoarsely, red with embarrassment, but unable to stop herself, and his eyes fly open. They are shiny and hooded now, he struggles to hold her gaze, it can’t be easy, but he pushes himself to please, to do as she said. At this moment he belongs to her, all of that body, mind, and soul, he is all hers, and the rush of power and desire at that thought leaves her lightheaded. 

“Fuck, _fuck_ , what are you doing to me,” JD laughs breathlessly and Kait smiles in return. 

“I’m making you feel good.”

“I want to make you feel good too,” he whispers, barely audible over the slick sounds of flesh on flesh. 

“You are,” she is not lying. Kait has only just noticed that she is grinding her hips shallowly against his thigh, she can’t help it now. And yes, she wants his hands on her — oh, God, _in her_ — yesterday, but she wants this more. 

“Let me touch you,” his fingers are twitching against the bars, waiting for a request, an order, a permission. 

“Later, I promise,” she whispers, swiping her thumb against the shiny head. “Right now I want to… How do I...”

She can’t say it, but JD still knows what she means, judging by the way he sobs and runs his hands across his face and his hips twitch under her. 

“Just like that,” he grits through his teeth. “That’s fucking perfect”.

She is burning all over, from her cheeks and lips to the pit of her stomach and the place between her legs. It feels like too much, but she can’t stop, she is past the threshold of pretense and caring, swallowed by the deep and dark red river of hot blood, so when he moans for real this time and hides his face in his shoulder, the words are out of her mouth before she can process them.

“Don’t look away,” she urges, moves her hand a fraction faster, and JD keens and struggles, his eyes gone dark grey and unfocused when he looks back at her. 

“I can’t, fuck, I…”

“Please, try,” she wants to see it so badly. Her right hand is almost numb with fatigue, but she can feel him - hot and impossibly hard, twitching on the precipice. He’s going to come — she wants him to, she so wants him to.

“Kait,” JD’s breath hitches and one of his hands flies off the metal to grip her thigh. 

“Yeah,” she whispers, eyes locked with his. “Yeah”.

There is a second when everything abruptly goes very still. Kait sees as if in slow motion the way JD holds his breath, the red blush and sweat glistening on his body, the soft open mouth, the pleading, submissive expression of his eyes, that he managed to keep open - all of it focuses into an infinitely small, tight point and then the tension breaks. JD drives his hips up and shudders as he comes, and Kait shudders with him, with every hard pulse and every quiet sound he makes, the waves of pleasure echoing all over her body until finally his hand stills hers and pries it away. 

Her hand is wet, it’s shaking when Kait lets go of him.

The rest is pretty much a blur. She is so high strung she can barely see, her lungs feel like he’s been running for too long and the room is out of the air and every breath burns her in the most delicious way it never did before. And then two hands hold and manhandle her, press her against a hard chest, and she lays back, buries her face in his neck, and breathes in his smell — sweat and menthol and ozone and sex. Deft fingers undo the straps and zippers on her pants and get inside, cup her and rub against her, sliding easily with how wet she is, finding a solid fast rhythm that makes her melt into him and arch towards his hand. He says something, half slurred, frantic words that don’t make sense to her, but her skin tingles all over from the pitch of his voice, the wonder, the reverence. Her lower belly feels heavy and hot and the muscles there are drawn tight, her body is pushing at the arm that is holding her across her ribs, closer, just one more push, one spark. 

“I’ve got you,” JD whispers hotly, and she is lost between the huskiness of his words and the unrelenting steady movement of his fingers. “I’ve got you, _Kaitie_." 

And in the next second, she is there, right at the peak and falling over it headfirst into the red hot waves of pleasure. It floods her world for a handful of devastatingly beautiful seconds, pulling her apart, making her want to scream, and leaves her with twitching thighs, shivering and gasping for long-needed breath.

Kait doesn’t know how long they lay like this, in a useless but sated pile of limbs, with her face tucked comfortably into his neck and his wet fingers still holding on to her thigh. He doesn’t move even when their hearts stop pounding wildly and the stickiness becomes a little uncomfortable, and Kait is strangely grateful for that because this is the best she felt in a long time and she never wants to move again. JD doesn’t say anything, doesn’t kiss her or let go of her, just tugs her underwear back and slides her pants the rest of the way off, and turns her just a little so that she could lay snugly against his chest. 

“Sleep,” he says in his warm and hoarse voice, and to her extreme surprise, she does. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. That's not my best work but I've been working on it forever. If it seems a little abrupt or vague, that's because there is a part II, I don't know when (if even) my depressive state will allow me to finish it.  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated.


End file.
